Scatman Dues (Freaky Florida Mystery Adventures Book 6) by Margaret Lashley (ereader for android TXT) 📕

you, honey. You had major brain surgery. You’re not thinking straight. I’ll come back when—”

“No,” I screamed. “Get out! And don’t ever come back!”

The door to my hospital room flew open. Earl stepped in, his shoulders as broad as a barroom bouncer.

“I believe my cousin just asked you to hit the road,” he said.

Carl shook his head. “She’s suffering from delirium.”

“Well, now, that’s nothin’ a little Kaopectate can’t cure,” Earl said, grabbing Carl by the arm. “Now why don’t you mosey on outta here, like Bobbie said.”

“Fine,” Carl said. “I’ll come back later.”

“Don’t bother!” I yelled.

“Have a nice life,” Earl said, and shoved Carl out the door.

He shut it behind him, then turned and smiled at me. “Bout time you got shed of that rotten ol’ rascal, Bobbie.”

“I know. Thanks, Earl.”

“Just doin’ my cousinly duty. You up for another visitor?”

I winced. “Someone else to pour salt in my wounds? No thanks. Not now. I just want to be alone for a while.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” I felt a crying jag coming on. “I think I need a nap.”

“Okie-dokie, then,” Earl said. “I’m headin’ back to the auto shop.”

“Okay. I’ll be out of here soon and can help you out.”

“Don’t you worry about that. You just get well. I been doin’ all right without you.”

“Oh.”

Despite my best efforts, I sobbed. Tears spilled from my eyes.

Earl rushed over to my side. “You okay?” He took off his prized Redman Chewing Tobacco cap. “Here. Lemme leave Old Red here to keep you company.”

“Thanks,” I said, running my fingers across the tattered old cap. “Do me a favor?”

Earl smiled. “Sure.”

“Take that stupid cap Carl left,” I said. “It’s yours.”

Earl’s lip snarled. “You sure? I don’t want him thinkin’ I stole it, now.”

“Don’t worry. You’re no kleptomaniac.”

“What’s that?” Earl asked.

I sighed. “A mental disorder.”

“Oh.” He winked. “Can you take something for it?”

I laughed and swatted him with Old Red. “Sometimes you’re not as dumb as you look.”

“I appreciate that,” Earl said, trying the Carl’s cap for size.

He leaned over and took my hand in his bear-sized one. “Listen. I know you got to get better and all, Bobbie. But if it makes you feel any better, we got rid of ‘em.”

“Carl? I know. I just saw you do it. I’m not that brain damaged—am I?”

Earl shook his head. “I wasn’t talkin’ about that butthole Carl. I was talkin’ about them.”

I sighed. “Look, Earl. I’m tired. What do you mean, them?”

Earl cocked his head and looked at me funny.

“The aliens, Bobbie. Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

Suddenly, the door to my room flew open. A doctor in a white lab coat entered, studying my chart.

“I see the patient has finally awakened,” he said to Earl.

The doctor’s voice sounded vaguely familiar. Then he glanced over at me.

His green eyes twinkled.

“Grayson!” I gasped. “You’re real!”

He grinned. “As far as you know, yes.”

“Woohoo! She knows you!” Earl hollered.

“Of course I do,” I said, feeling the life rush back into my veins. “What ... what happened?”

Grayson shrugged. “Well, I lost my fedora in the explosion—and my moustache, too.”

“W ... what?” I stuttered. “No. I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” Grayson said, taking my hand. “Just lay back and relax. I’ll explain everything when you’re ready.”

Chapter Sixty-Seven

I was so overwhelmed with joy to see Grayson that I could barely concentrate on the words tumbling from his clean-shaven lips.

Without his moustache, Grayson looked like Theo James and George Clooney rolled into one dark-haired, mysterious, green-eyed, spider-fingered, hunk-a-palooza.

Mama-mia!

“‘Operation Mercy Flush’ was a complete success,” Grayson said.

I sighed and shook my head.

And there’s the ying to his yang.

“It dang sure was!” Earl said. “We done sent Queen Witchy Poo back to whatever spaceworm butthole she crawled out of.”

“Wait,” I said. “My memory’s kind of sketchy. Could you start at the beginning?”

“Uh, sure,” Earl said. “You was born a tomboy in the little town a Point Paradise, Florida.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not that far back.”

“Do you remember that I got word on the Mothman scat samples?” Grayson asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

He nodded. “I did. The results were inconclusive. The lab required more samples to test.”

I smiled. “That’s good, right?”

“It would’ve been,” Grayson said, glancing up at Earl.

“What’s the big deal?” I asked. “Just send them the ones in the—”

“I can’t,” Grayson said. “They were ... uh ... ahem ...”

“I ate ‘em, okay?” Earl blurted, his face puckering at the thought.

I grimaced. “You ate them?”

“Yeah. When you locked me up in that blasted RV when I was all crazy-like.” He shuddered. “What’d y’all keep them dookie balls in the fridge for, anyway?”

Grayson shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway, Drex. The RV was lost during our last mission.”

A flash of memory twanged my brain. “I think I remember something about that.” I raised my hand to my bandaged head. “Is that what happened to me?”

“Yes and no,” Grayson said. “During the explosion, you were struck in the head by flying debris. A chrome door-handle, to be exact. We brought you to the hospital unconscious.”

“That’s how I ended up here,” I said. “But ... did the handle stab me in the head or something?”

“Nope. Your skull was too thick for that,” Earl said, tapping his knuckles on his shaggy pate. “You and me got Grandma Selma’s genes.”

“You did sustain a head wound,” Grayson said. “But the MRI showed a different complication. It seemed your twin was ready to be born.”

“Twin?” I asked. “You mean my—”

“Yes. The vestigial twin lodged inside your brain.”

My jaw went slack. “They took it out?”

Grayson nodded.

I sat up in bed. “What did it look like?”

Grayson grinned. “I had a feeling you might want to know. I hope you don’t mind, but I had Earl sign a consent form so we could keep it.”

“We got it in a jar behind the seat in Bessie,” Earl said. “Wanna see it? Gotta warn ya, though. It’s darn near as ugly as you are.”

I laughed, then locked eyes with Grayson. “Yeah. I wanna see it.”

“I’ll bring it by later,” he said. “But right now, you’ve got another visitor